


You've Got Me, Who's Got You?

by Poemsingreenink



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, M/M, Worst soulmate au ever, everyone lives au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poemsingreenink/pseuds/Poemsingreenink
Summary: Billy wakes up after the events of Rose Creek. The good news is that he's alive. The bad news is he's been shot. The weird news is that his soulmate has shown up.





	

When Billy finally woke, forehead drenched from fever and bloodied bandages still wrapped around his torso, it was to the sight of Vasquez carefully bending the shell of his ear forward and Goodnight raising hell.

“I told you to let him be!”

Something bright went flying over Billy’s head, but Vasquez darted nimbly out of the way. Whatever it had been landed with a crash and no small amount of swearing.

Moving closer, Vasquez released Billy’s ear and gently wound up a fistful of the other man’s hair.

Another object, Billy saw it was a cup, sailed through the air. Vasquez caught it before it could collide with his nose, and dropped it to the ground.

“Get your paws off him!”

Billy wanted to echo the sentiment, but every scrap of English he’d ever learned seemed to be hiding from him. Instead, he tried for a more forward approach and reached for the other man.

Billy had been angling for a throat grab, and was a little shocked when Vasquez took him by the hand.

“Shhh. I’m almost done.”

It wasn’t at all comforting, especially when his next move was to move Billy’s hair to the side, and peer at the skin on Billy’s neck.

The angle meant that the joyful whoop he let out at his findings went right into Billy’s ear.

“I knew it!”

 

* * *

 

It should have been embarrassing. Billy and Vasquez had been spitting distance away from one another for an entire week, all while standing shoulder-to-shoulder against mustachioed evil, but because they'd failed to exchange so much as a casual 'good morning' they'd had no idea of their fated relationship until after their suicide mission was over. Very few soulmates got a meeting that sounded like it belonged between the pages of a dime novel

"You see!"

Vasquez's pants were around his ankles, though thankfully his drawers hadn't joined them. Instead, just underneath the hem in the type of bold black font usually reserved for newspaper articles were Billy's first words to him.

**Goodnight?**

"I am currently housing a mess of feelings in regards to this," Goodnight said, dryly.

"I always wondered," Vasquez said, motioning to the small sentence. "Why it didn't say _buenas noches_ , and I didn't know what to do with the question mark. I never would have guessed it'd be some crazy old cowboy's name."

Goodnight rolled his eyes. "Billy, you have any memory of the joyous event?"

Billy shook his head, which proved to be a horrible idea since it made the entire world swim and shimmer.

It should have been embarrassing. There were entire plays built around the special moments that happened around a first exchange. (They tended to be light on action, and heavy on poetry which meant that Goodnight loved them). A fair share of the population would have been mortified that Billy had missed such a milestone. What were multiple gunshot wounds in the face of the other half of one's soul? Wracked with pain or not when your soulmate came calling you remembered the damn event. 

"I climbed the bell tower to see if you were alive," Vasquez said. "You weren't doing so well. There was blood everywhere. I tried to move you, and you looked into my eyes and said his name."

He jerked his head to where Goodnight lay cot bound. Both his legs wrapped and splinted.

"You were confused," Vasquez continued. "I was trying to keep you calm, and I said-"

"Don't worry," Goodnight interrupted, quoting the line of script that ran across the back, and down the side of Billy's neck. "I have you."

Somewhere in the tent Faraday set off a round of loud, obnoxious kissing noises.

Billy flopped his arm around, searching for a knife to throw. A tin plate, courtesy of Goodnight, went zipping over his head before he could find one. Faraday yelped and went silent.

It should have been embarrassing, but Billy had stopped giving the idea of soulmates any weight years ago. It also helped that Vasquez didn't find any of this unusual. The joy in his face shone brighter than the North star, and Billy wondered if that was normal behavior for a freshly bonded soulmate. If they'd begun sharing emotions (And damn it when exactly did that part start?) then it might also explain the bright singing bubble of warmth that had settled in Billy's chest.

That or the infection was starting to spread. It was hard to tell.

Goodnight was watching Vasquez with the sharp keen interest of someone who wasn't plagued by a fever-cooked brain. A hawk surveying a rather bold squirrel. Knowing Goodnight had an eye on the situation, Billy let his head fall back. It thumped uncomfortably atop whatever wooden plank they'd transformed into a medical table, and he was a little disappointed that it didn't knock him out. A cold, dark oblivion had its perks.

He'd started to drift off when a calloused hand took hold of his.

"Yes, you sleep. We'll talk more when you're better."

Another round of kissing noises filled the tent, but this time no one bothered to shut Faraday up.

His eyes already shut, Billy missed the frozen expression on Goodnight's face though his partner's final thoughts on the events did chase him into sleep.

"Vasquez, put your god damn pants back on!"

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a weird blurb idea on Tumblr and now here we are. Who knows what strange salty turns this AU will take? Join us next week when everything probably gets way angstier. 
> 
> No proof reading. We die like men.


End file.
